


Key

by mangoapplepie (jg291)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:45:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4115977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jg291/pseuds/mangoapplepie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drarry birthday fluff that happens to coincide with Hogwarts graduation</p>
            </blockquote>





	Key

The graduation was set for June 4th. Hogwarts typically didn’t have a graduation celebration, in the traditional sense, but Harry’s eighth year was different. They did have two (incomplete) classes graduating, but that wasn’t it. The whole year had been about a celebration of life, achievement, accomplishment, rebuilding. The houses had come together in a way like none before, led by the eighth years who were forced to mingle when McGonagall deemed it a good idea to sequester them in their own dorms, away from their younger housemates.

Harry had dreaded the idea at first at first, but it ended up being one of the best things - if not  _the_  best thing - that had ever happened to him. He was hero worshipped by much of the school (“treated like the hero he was,” Hermione chided, every time he complained) by all but one group - the remaining eighth year Slytherins, led of course by Draco Malfoy. Harry was surprised by how many of them came back when re-enrollment wasn’t required - but they all did. Well, all of them except Crabbe, of course.

Malfoy looked weird with only one henchman around him, oddly asymmetrical, and Harry, without realizing it, took it upon himself to fill the gap. With Hermione and Ron snogging at every chance they got, he needed an escape. So he picked fights with Malfoy, and allowed Malfoy to pick fights with him, would continue until late at night with Blaise and Pansy looking on amused, waiting to see if one of them will crack. 

They never do, and it’s the most fun Harry can remember having in years. 

–

With graduation close, he’s a bit unsure of how the future is going to go. Of course he’ll go into Auror training, and Draco’s family name isn’t so far down the gutter that Draco couldn’t get a good job, and will be starting his Gringotts training around the same time. 

So, yeah, maybe they’ll run into each other, and maybe they won’t, and maybe Harry will be okay with the uncertainty.

(He knows he won’t be okay with the uncertainty. He needs to figure out how to keep Draco Malfoy in his life, but he doesn’t want to be the one to make it awkward by bringing it up.) 

His answer comes when McGonagall announces the day of the graduation ceremony. June 4th means nothing to him, until, it does. He convinces the headmistress to let the eighth years have a party to celebrate. McGonagall agrees, stipulating that the party is to end precisely at midnight. That’s obviously not sufficient for Harry’s purposes, though, so he wheedles until she agrees to 1 a.m. 

Harry announces the party as a graduation party, for the eighth years. Draco seems a little down when he asks if that’s  _all_  the party is celebrating, and Harry plays dumb when he tells Draco of course that’s what the party is celebrating. Just surviving Hogwarts is accomplishment enough. 

–

The party goes swimmingly, exactly as Hermione planned. (As soon as she heard Harry was throwing a party, she insisted on taking over. Thank Merlin.) 

Everyone somehow manages to get exactly the right level of drunk, not wanting to misremember this night. The party gets a little raucous when Dean and Seamus start making out in front of everyone, but no one cares that it’s two guys making out, which calms Harry down more than it should. 

At five to midnight, Draco’s got Harry cornered. Well, it’s a very comfortable corner, in that Harry is sitting regularly on a couch and Draco is sideways next to him, his legs comfortably resting over Harry’s lap. That they’re partially entwined feels right, and Harry doesn’t want the moment to end. 

Of course, Draco has to ruin the comfortable silence by speaking. “Potter, are you  _sure_  nothing else inspired you to throw this party?” 

“Of course not, Draco,” Harry sighs, but he knows there’s a twinkle in his eye, his tell, that of course Draco can understand because somehow over the course of the past nine months they’ve completely fallen into step with each other, to the point where Harry can discern Draco’s thoughts just from a glance. 

Harry knows he’s been lying this whole time when Draco’s eyes light up. “So… what’d ya get me?”

“Get you?” Harry asks, still playing dumb.

“Oh come off it, Potter,” at which point Harry leans forward to poke Draco on the side, using the negative reinforcement technique he perfected a few months ago when he decided first names were the right way to go. “Oh come off it,  _Harry,”_  because again, they know each other that well by now, “we’re leaving the castle tomorrow forever and you’re going to miss me.”

“I am?” Harry laughs, though, trying to hide how scared he is that his gambit won’t work, that he actually won’t be around Draco all of the time anymore. 

“Of course you are,  _Harry_ , our story has been quite epic, you know. The very least of which could be represented by a gift for one’s -”

“Birthday?” Harry cuts in at the last moment, making sure Draco knows he didn’t actually forget, didn’t actually need to be reminded. 

A moment later, the grandfather clock that Harry ordered into the Room for this express purpose begins to chime, announcing the change of the day. He pulls out a small box he’s been carrying around in his pocket all night, presents it to Draco. 

“You get me jewelry, Potter? I know I’m prettier than you, but that doesn’t me you can go around offering me jewelry like some girl.”

“Open the box, Draco.” 

Once Draco takes the box out of Harry’s hand, Harry has to look up. He knows what’s in the box and needs to know how Draco reacts. 

“It’s a … key? What’s this for, Harry?” 

“Grimmauld Place,” Harry answers, not sure how to continue. Luckily, Draco appears to have a follow up. 

“Why would you give me a key? You can just set the wards to allow me to Apparate in for when I come visit.” 

Oh. Good. Draco was planning to come visit, But that’s not why Harry gave it to him.

“Well, I don’t really want you to visit,” Harry starts, gathering his nerves. 

Draco deflates, though, on those words. Damn phrasing! He hastens to continue. 

“Draco! That’s not what I meant. Calm down. I mean, I don’t want you to visit, because I want you to leave there.”

“If I move into your house, where are you going to live?”

“There. At Grimmauld Place. With you. Draco, will you move in with me?” 

That wasn’t so hard. Right?

“As roommates?” 

Shit. That was actually what Harry was offering, but the minute the word came out of Draco’s mouth, it immediately felt wrong. 

Harry stammers. He has no idea how to respond. 

Luckily, Draco seems to be on the ball again. “How about you answer that question after I take the birthday present I expected you to give me?” Draco asks, but he’s smiling now. 

“Oh, and what was that?” Harry’s smiling, too. 

All of a sudden, Draco leans in, kisses Harry. It’s wonderful, everything he ever wanted without realizing. Too soon, Draco pulls back. “So… roommates?” 

“Absolutely not.” Harry speaks without thinking, but it’s the right thing to say. “But yes, you should definitely move in with me.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Of course. Happy birthday, Draco.” 


End file.
